


Breaking Bands

by bunnygum (orphan_account)



Category: Breaking Bad
Genre: AU, F/M, Los Pollos, alternative universe, band!au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-08
Updated: 2013-11-09
Packaged: 2017-12-31 21:03:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1036372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/bunnygum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Band!AU Los Pollos has become one of the most popular bands in the country, but just when they think the tour is at its best, problems arise and the band has to make some crucial decisions.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Hello Santa Fe

The stage lights dimmed.

'Jesse! We are supposed to be out there in less than a minute!' 

Crew were seen jogging off the stage. 

'Mr. White, I'm just finishing this up, okay?' 

A high pitched ring was heard coming from the speakers, then it decreased in frequency.

'Gale and Victor have been ready to go for ten minutes now, and here you are- smoking pot!'

There was silence. Not one person was talking. Silence. 

'Come on guys are you ready to go? Jesus Jesse are you-'  
'Just let me be, okay Mike?'  
Mike huffed.  
'Do you think this is a time to fuck around? They're expecting you out there.'  
Jesse sighed and put down his joint.  
'I'm ready.'  
'Christ..' Walt muttered. As soon as Jesse had said 'ready,' Gale and Victor walked down the hall and were ready to go onto the stage. Walt and Jesse left the room and Mike led them through.  
'Just-' Mike shook his head. 'Good luck, alright? Don't fuck up.'  
Gale picked up his bass guitar. Walt stood in front of the mic. Jesse sat down on the stool at his drum kit. Victor picked up his semi acoustic guitar. Finally, Jesse shouted the opening line into his mic.  
'ONE TWO THREE-'

'Ugh. Look at this shit.'  
Steve looked up to Hank, who was sitting across from him.  
'What?'  
Hank held up the newspaper to Steve's face to show a column on the side of the page, with a photo underneath of Los Pollos. Lead singer, Walter White ('Heisenberg'). Bassist, Gale Boetticher. Guitarist, Victor Smith. Drummer and backup singer, Jesse Pinkman. There was also Gus Fring, their manager.  
'Can you believe this? I mean-'  
'There may be some slight turbulence up ahead.'  
'I mean, we started our tour what 2 weeks ago? Did we get a fucking column?' Hank threw the paper onto the floor. 'I'm getting a drink.' He stood up and went over to the bar at the end of the jet then grabbed a Heineken from the fridge. 'Do you want one?' He asked loudly.  
'No, I'm fine.'  
'Getz?'  
'I'm okay.'  
'We have original songs. We work harder. We actually care about our fans. Compared to Los Pollos, DEA is a fucking way of life.' He leaned against the wall of the jet. 'And who the fuck calls himself Heisenberg? What kind of fucking name is that? What kind of-'  
'Hank.' Steve turned to face him. 'You need to calm down. Our last album did great in the charts. The first concert of the tour in Santa Fe sold one thousand more tickets than the last time we went there. Don't you think that's an improvement?'  
'Fucking.. Heisenberg.. You know, I've heard rumours about that band.'  
'What rumours?'  
Hank went back to Steve, picked up the newspaper and pointed his finger at Gus Fring.  
'Fring. He's the one that put in these two other guys.'  
Hank then pointed to Victor and Gale.  
'The whole rock band thing is just, literally, an act. This guy Heisenberg, aka Walter White or something like that, and the Pinkman kid- they were just playing in bars, in streets.'  
'Listen Hank. Just because you were engaged to his sister in law it doesn't mean-'  
'That isn't what it's about. I'm talking about-'  
'If it weren't for him you would never have even met Marie.'  
'Exactly. It was all because of him.'  
'Hank.' Getz slammed his palm down on his arm rest. 'We perform in six hours. I just want an hour, maybe two hours of sleep. Okay?'  
'Okay. Jesus.'

'Your manager's here.' The three band members collapsed on the jet's sofa. 'Boys. Gus is coming on the plane with you... Where's Victor?'  
They all pointed to the row of seats, where in one of them Victor was sleeping. Gale opened up his exercise book full of song lyrics and compositions and began to write in it.  
'Mr. White. Mr. Pinkman. Mr. Boetticher.'  
The three looked up to see Gus standing before them.  
'I wanted to talk to you before the plane left.'  
'Yeah what do you want?' Jesse asked with an undertone.  
'I just wanted to let you know that we've extended the tour.'  
Walter stood up.  
'You've what?'  
'We've extended it to three months.'  
'Three months?' Jesse put the joint in his hand back into his jacket pocket. 'And when exactly did we decide this?'  
Mr. Fring, expressionless, began to walk back to the jet entrance.  
'No, bitch! I'm talking to you!'  
He turned around to Jesse.  
'Cancel your plans. You'll be given 20 percent more.' He left the plane without another word. Walter sat down and exhaled. He scratched his bald head and looked at Mike, who was still standing by the entrance with his hands in his pockets.  
'Walter, don't say a word.'  
Jesse stood up and went to his seat, where he began to eat a bag of Fritos.  
'Mike, all these decisions you and Gus make for us I-'  
'Walter. What did I say?'

The entrance door was shut and Mike sat in one of the seats. Gale lay on the couch with an acoustic guitar. He quietly pulled the strings and stared upwards. Victor had disappeared. The rest of the band assumed he was in the cockpit.  
'Mr. White.'  
Walter sat next to Jesse.  
'What?'  
Jesse then began to speak with a quieter tone as he stared out the window.  
'Do you think things are better like this?'  
'Like what?'  
'Do- do you remember when we were just dumb and trying to make some good music? Like, that was just how it was. We weren't worrying about producers or managers or.. it was just us against the world. I remember those days. Do you think Gale was right for the band? I know Gus really tried hard and all but I mean- Victor and Gale, they're not like us. They're different. Remember when Tuco wanted to be our manager? Huh?'  
'Jesse. You and I know whose fault it was that it didn't work out with Tuco.'  
'Oh so it's all my fault?'  
'Yes. It was.'  
'I'm sorry he didn't like what we showed him.'  
'No Jesse he loved what we showed him, until of course you decided to do something of your own and you tried to improvise.'  
Jesse sighed and moved closer to the window. The only thing he could see was himself. Outside of the window there was nothing- just black.  
'We're fine Jesse. Gale has given us good stuff. You may not get along with him and Victor but without them we wouldn't be here.'  
'Mr. White.' His eyes finally met Walt's. 'I've heard what people have been saying. You're losing your family. You'll be retiring soon.'  
The creases in Walt's forehead were seen. 'I'll retire when the cancer kills me.'  
'Gus knows about it. Do you think he's going to keep you around when you're-'  
'Enough. Enough.'  
Jesse leaned his head back.  
'Goodbye New Mexico.'


	2. Three Missed Calls

Walter groaned as he looked at his phone. Skyler had called him twice since he last used his phone. He decided it was time he finally talked to her.

'Skyler?'  
'Walt? You actually called me.'  
'I'm sorry, I was performing. You know. The main priority.'  
'Where are you now?'  
'We've just landed in El Paso. I think we're staying in a hotel.'  
'Do you want to talk to Flynn?'  
'Yeah, put him on.' Walt waited as Skyler put him on the phone.  
'Hey Dad.'  
'Junior. How are you?'  
'Yeah, I'm good.'  
'Great. How's school?'  
'It's alright. So uh, Dad. When do you think you'll be home?'  
Walt opened his mouth to talk.  
'Dad?'  
'I'm not sure. I'll have to tell you when I know.'  
'Well, I should go now.'  
'Okay son. I'll call you again okay?'  
'Okay Dad. Bye.'  
'Walt?' Skyler was on the phone again.  
'Yes?'  
'Just- remember to call.'  
'I will. I will Skyler.'

'Getz? Where's Hank?'  
'He's in the bathroom.'  
Steve sat on the dressing room sofa.   
'Is he okay?'  
'He's a little upset about that problem he had with his guitar.'  
Steve entered the bathroom to see Hank standing in front of the mirror, panting.  
'Hank are you okay?'  
'I'm fine. I'm fine.'  
'Listen, don't worry about what happened. We were great.'  
'Yeah of course we were fucking great.'  
'We're leaving in 10 minutes, alright?'  
'Yeah. I know. Where are we staying?'  
'The Hilton or something.'  
'Right.' Hank leaned forward and looked at the dark rings under his eyes. His cheekbones had shadows. His hands were clammy. He hadn't slept for three days. The only thing on his mind was the band. Finally, he decided to leave the small, piss smelling bathroom to go to the hotel with Steve and Getz.

'Gus is here. He wants to talk to you again.' Mike left Jesse's hotel room and two seconds later Mr. Fring entered the room and closed the door behind him. As soon as he took a step towards him, Jesse could smell the cologne he was wearing.   
'Hello Jesse.'  
'Hello Gus.'  
'May I ask you something?'   
Jesse waved his hand.  
'Go ahead.'  
'How would you feel about leaving the band?'  
The fatigued expression left his face.   
'What?'  
'As you know, Walter is-'  
'Yeah. You don't have to remind me.'   
A small band of three people are looking for a new drummer. They want someone good.  
'And?'  
'I'd like you to consider joining the band.'  
'And leaving Los Pollos?'  
'Mr. Pinkman, I know-'  
'No. Don't Mr. Pinkman me. Just let me think about it, a'ight?'  
Gus turned to the door and left the room. Jesse huffed and turned the T.V on. He was thinking about it though. Jesse was closer and closer to not wanting to be in the band at all. He was a ticking time bomb. 

The next morning, Jesse went to Mr. Fring's hotel room to see him. He approached the door, then knocked twice. It opened a few seconds later. It was like Gus hadn't even slept. He was looking surprisingly basic for 7 in the morning.  
'Jesse. Please, come in.'  
Jesse entered the clean room and sat at the glass table near the kitchenette. Gus sat down opposite him.   
'Mr. Fring, I've been thinking. I wanna see this band. Alright? I'll see if they're good.'  
Gus smiled (slightly) and escorted Jesse out of the hotel room.   
'I'll have Mike bring you here later on to meet them.'  
'Great.' 

'Have you seen Jesse?' Walter reached across the table to grab the plate of bacon.  
'Beats me.' Gale poured soy milk into his bowl of cornflakes. 'The breakfast here is great.' And it was. The food hall of the hotel had twenty six tables covered with cotton table clothes and wooden chairs with red suede backs and seats. In the centre of the room was a buffet table with a selection of eggs, toast and cereals. Victor pulled a chair out and joined Walter and Gale.   
'Good morning Gale. Good morning Walter.'  
'Good morning.' They both greeted.   
'Where's Jesse?' Victor asked as he grabbed a porcelain plate from the centre of the table. Walter shrugged.  
'I'm guessing he's still in his room.'

Jesse was led into a room with three other people, each Mexican.   
'This is Jesse Pinkman.' Gus said as he pushed Jesse towards them.   
'Hi.'

'Hank?'  
Hank looked to his hotel door. Steve was knocking on it.   
'I'm coming.'  
Steve was, in a way, shocked at Hank's menacing appearance when the door was opened.   
'Hank, I need to talk to you.'  
'Yeah, what?'  
'Can I come in?'  
Hank turned around to look at his pitch black room, then back.  
'Sure.' He turned the lights on and let Steve in.   
'What is it?'  
'Well, Hank. I've been talking with Getz. We're very concerned about you.'  
'You're what? Concerned? Why?'  
'Lately you've been irritated about Los Pollos. You've just been obsessing and magnifying our competition. It isn't healthy. When will you understand that the band is-'  
'What? Good? I know that the band is good, Steve. But Los Pollos is just getting on my nerve, alright? I mean, first they have their tour around the exact same time we're doing our country tour. They copied our logo. They released their last album when we did. This fucking Heisenberg. Jesus.'  
'This is what I'm talking about Hank. It needs to stop. It needs to.'  
Steve left the room. At that moment, Hank realised Steve was somewhat correct. He was heated up about something that only bothered him. He was seeing things in black and white. If he was still with Marie, he would have had someone to talk to or at least vent to. Now he was alone. He had met Walter White twice, but the idea of him and his successful band was destroying Hank. 

'Jesse?'  
'Oh, hey Gale.' Jesse continued to walk through the hotel lobby.  
'Wait, Jesse.'  
He turned to Gale and huffed.  
'What?'  
'We've been wondering where you were. You didn't have breakfast with us.'  
'I wasn't hungry.' He then continued to walk.   
'Is everything okay?'  
'Where's Mr. White?'  
'Walter is in his hotel room. Where else?'  
Jesse took the elevator to Walt's level and went to his room. He could hear music coming from inside- America's A Horse With No Name.  
'Yo, Mr. White it's Jesse.'  
The music stopped. The door opened.  
'Jesse. Where have you been? You weren't in your room.'  
'Yeah well. I was busy.' He pushed through Walter and sat on his sofa.   
'Gus came to me this morning.'  
'And?'  
'He wants me to leave the band.'  
'He what?'  
'Mr. White, Gus knows that with your cancer, the band won't survive any longer. And he knows I'm just as good on the drums as you are at singing.'  
'Jesse. Do you have any idea what you're getting yourself into?'  
'I've been thinking. Maybe it's for the best.'  
'For the best? Jesse do you know what will happen to the band if you leave?'  
'Yeah. I do. But that's what's supposed to happen. I want to be good in the band Walter. This band they showed me could use someone like me.'  
'Are you being serious? This band needs you Jesse. This band.'  
'So what happens if you don't get better? We just wait around?'  
'Do you honesty think-'  
The phone began to ring. Their heads turned to look at the black plastic phone on the wall. Walter walked to it and answered.   
'Hello?... Saul?... Yes, Jesse is here.... okay.' Walt hung up the phone.   
'Who the hell was that?'   
'Saul. He's down in the lobby.'  
'And?'  
'He wants to talk to us about the new single.'  
'Jesus.. what new single?'  
'The one Gale was writing.'  
Jesse rubbed his red eyes and ran his hand through his hair.   
'Okay, let's go.'

Saul was wearing a cheap suit and leaning against the hotel desk. He definitely stood out. A few metres away from him was Gale and Victor, standing by the marble column.   
'Walt! Jesse!' Their expressions didn't show any enthusiasm as they greeted him.   
'The others are here- so let's just move over to the chairs.'  
They sat in the leather seats of the lobby surrounding the magazine covered coffee table.  
'So, as you know, Gale has recently written a song and it's going to be your newest single.'  
'Single?' Jesse had his head resting against his palm. 'Weren't we just going to start planning the new album?'  
'Yes, I know what you're thinking, but if we-'  
'Yeah, I know. Let people have an idea of what the new album's gonna be like.'  
'Anyway,' Saul clapped his hands, 'Jesse I believe the last time we discussed releasing a single you volunteered to provide your art skills for the cover.'  
Jesse shrugged.  
'I don't have anything to do with that though, so you just discuss that with the album cover department. Also, we've made a date of when we'll release the single. So once Gale has finished all the lyrics, you'll head straight to the recording studio.'  
The band, (apart from Gale of course) didn't seem to have any interest, despite Saul's forced excitement.  
'Listen guys, I've come a long way to talk to you. After all, I really do care about the direction of this band. You're still relatively new so it is extremely important that how you-' Saul's phone began to ring. 'Wait one second.' He pulled out his phone and answered it. 'Yeah it.. what?' He covered the phone. 'It's Patrick, I have to go.' And with that, he stood up and left the lobby. Jesse exhaled and also left.  
'Jesse?' Walt went after him. 'Jesse wait.'   
He turned to Walter.  
'What?'  
'So are we going to talk about it?'  
'About what?'  
'About you leaving the band.'  
Jesse shook his head and entered the elevator.


End file.
